


[Let yourself go Wild] Feral & Unhinged

by RecklessSmiles



Series: Let yourself go Wild [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alpha Billy Hargrove, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Blood, Feral, Feral Behavior, Fluff and Angst, Harringrove, It's just a werewolf fic, M/M, Neil Hargrove is His Own Warning, Slow Burn, Stranger Things AU, THIS IS NOT A/B/O VERSE!, Werewolf Angst, Werewolf Billy Hargrove, harringrove au, wild child - Freeform, with a lot of teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:35:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21785761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RecklessSmiles/pseuds/RecklessSmiles
Summary: Billy Hargrove is one of many Lykos/Loup Garou in his bloodlines. He was next in line to be Alpha. Until Neil, his non-wolf of a father ruined his chances by dragging Billy and his little human family to Hawkins Indiana.What's a wolf to do?Basketball helped, what helped more was wrestling King Steve to the Byers kitchen floor. But more the all that, what helped was running wild in the Hawkins Woods.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Let yourself go Wild [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570024
Comments: 6
Kudos: 173





	[Let yourself go Wild] Feral & Unhinged

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my Werewolf verse! Here's a little bit of helpful context for the world this is set in. 
> 
> Loup Garou: French term for Werewolf.
> 
> Lykanthropos: Greek term synonymous for werewolf, a direct line from King Lycaon. 
> 
> Unlike other takes, these Werewolves are born a wolf in human skin. They aren’t human, never were. They were blessed or cursed from the old gods. They transform into full wolves, on all four, not the beast-like “modern” takes. 
> 
> Neil Hargrove’s bloodline is from the French Loup Garou line of “ Bisclavret”; a loup garou from the late 12th century, France. 
> 
> Billy’s mother’s (Thea Accardi) bloodline is from the Lycanthrope linage, direct decent of King Lycaon of Arcadia B.C; who was cursed by Zeus himself to turn into a wolf. Apollo watches over their lineage now. 
> 
> Neil doesn’t have the ability to shift due to the fact that his mother had him with a human and so his Medieval bloodline was tainted. The matter was brushed under the rug and he was always told it was because he was cursed. He married/mated with Thea (despite her family protest) and so Billy is born with some of the oldest blood in him, and Neil’s. He is/was the heir of the Acarrdi pack.
> 
> [Song recommendations Ch.1: NIN-'The hand that feeds' & Zayde Wolf-'Animal'

Billy Hargrove knew that moving to this small town in the _Middle of Nowhere_ Indiana was going to be a trap. He knew it was going to be the same cage with a different view. Masked by pretty words of “trees everywhere”, “forests for miles” and “you’ll be able to run till you’re crawling back home.” And Billy could taste the animosity that dripped from those words as his father preached them to the family. Family, not _pack_.

And sure, to the beast inside his bones it sounded like paradise. He was a Lykos after all, more wolf than human; born to run free. But he was also born to lead, to be in a pack; neither of those things we’re being promised with this move. Nobody seemed happy about it, and why would they? To leave warm sunny California to move to Indiana! To trade Cuyamaca Rancho for ’ _Hawkins Woods’_ didn’t seem like a fair trade whatsoever.

Needless to say what really encouraged this move was that the pack all but shunned Neil for marrying a mundane; telling her, her daughter what they were…Billy didn’t have a chance to distance himself from the ordeal before Neil was packing his bags for him. Billy left his pack, his friends, his grandmother, his _legacy to be Alpha_ for fuckin Hawkins!

If the primordial wolf didn’t already run through his veins then anger would be the name of the beast. And it poured from him, anger, longing and loneliness. If his _‘family’_ wasn’t afraid of him before they sure as hell were now after this move. Susan especially, not that Billy would ever hurt her or Max; but the wolf scared her as much as Neil’s rage did.

Max still has that naive curiosity; envy. She use to love to watch Billy’s eyes shift, stalk him to the woods to watch him. Sometimes Billy would take her, let her camp out with him. Keep her safe if the forest with him like feral children. Billy would give her the gene if he could, she, anyone, deserved the blood more than Neil did.

But they moved despite the protests. Billy had a duffel bag filled with his clothes, records, books, some personal fixings; his mother’s Apollo medallion around his neck and his Camaro to the pavement. 2,049.9 miles later they arrived to their new home. It was on a dead end road named Dearborn. Pretty ironic, Billy had to wonder if his father did it on purpose.

Well, it didn’t really matter in all honesty. His father did him the smallest courtesy he could probably throw his way by moving them during Summer Break. Billy could make the woods his home before having to attend this new high school. Get some of the bitterness and aggression out during the humid heat of an Indiana summer.

And the blonde did. He spent two solid weeks in those woods completely ruthless to the Hawkins wildlife. He laid down trails and marked his property lines. And in those first two months of moving there; in the peak of the summer flourish, Billy lost himself in the wild. Only reality in the shape of his father’s fists dragged him back to the cage he knew was waiting for him all along.

Max seemed to adjust to living in the small town fairly quickly. She rode her skateboard around the town when Billy was lost in paradise. She showed him where everything was when Neil dragged him out of it. The Camaro made more of an impression then a red head on a skateboard did.

Then came school, the Indian summer was a life saver for the wolf. Where the night still held onto the light a little longer. If there was an ocean near by it wouldn’t have been half bad. And then there were new people to meet, people that took one look at the wolf, and his more than shoulder length blonde curls that he grew out during those two months in and out of the woods. Looked at the scruff on his face, the tourmaline blue of his eyes, the smell of cigarettes, dirt, and expensive cologne to mask the feral radiating off of him. And they knew _'trouble_ ’ just made its home in the little sleepy town.

And they had no idea—cause new smells and new faces always makes the wolf stand on guard. But the easiness of becoming the Alpha of this place was almost lackluster. Said for basketball, which Max had some choice words for. Something along the line of “have you seen ’ _teen wolf’_?” which Billy responded to with a middle finger.

Basketball was a sweet release of the same adrenaline he wasn’t getting. As long as he stayed in control, only use a little more speed than the others, a little more muscle. He could handle the smell of sweat dripping off bodies, ignore the rush of chasing them up and down the court; keep his teeth dull as he pushes this former king around. Yeah, easy shit.

And then five months had gone by and Billy had only stepped into those woods once since the Leo sun set. The cold bite of November entered quickly and this is the Hargrove’s first winter. And it was already a bitch. Max started to hang out more and more with these nerdy kids. Pushing Billy to his limits of sniffing out her whereabouts one too many times. Nearly got into it with King Steve last month at a Halloween party. Who, of course, is this pack of brats official babysitter or something.

And Neil was on Billy’s ass about all of it, like he was supposed to be his step sister’s keeper. If she wanted to run around with a bunch of creepy kids what was it to him? He had his own issues he was dealing with! Which he dealt with by working out, messin’ around with as many people he could and parties. Hey, if Neil insisted on caging the wolf then the wolf needed another outlet.

Until that outlet became King Steve Harrington’s face.

“That you Harrington?”

“Yeah it’s me, don’t cream your pants.”

Billy could smell the situation before he opened his mouth. He could smell the kids inside, their bodies emanated with fear and anxiety. He could smell the bravado, the slight anxiety, excitement and adrenaline that leaked off of Steve. That was a pretty good scent the blonde hat to admit. Some people’s pheromones just worked for the wolf.

“Where is she Harrington?”

“Who?”

“Max, who do you think.”

“Don’t know. Haven’t seen her. She’s not home?”

“If she was home do you really think I would have driven all the way out here? Come on pretty boy. I know you ain’t that stupid.”

“I seriously don’t know man!”

“Uh-huh. Then who’s that?”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. MAX! GET YUR ASS OUT HERE!” Billy roared from outside the Byers house.

“Billy knock it off! I’ll bring her home. Just leave.”

“No, I don’t think so Harrington. I have ta get her back pronto and that SHITBIRD knows it!”

Billy could hear Max squirming around inside, he swore he would never hurt her, but he didn’t promise shit about the kids she was runnin’ with.

“Outta my way Harrington!”

Billy growled shoving Steve to the ground. Two stepping into the Byers house. Slamming the door wide open, almost taking it off the hinges; the kids all huddled together.

“Max. Car. _Now_!”

His teeth were starting to point, Max knew not to get Billy like this. She knew and yet she pushed him to this point. Which just set him off even more.

“Billy back off!”

Steve followed behind. And when Billy lunged for Sinclair, one last stitch effort to try and get Max to comply; Steve was grabbing him. That’s when Billy saw red. It has been three months of the wolf in him lying in wait. And Steve Harrington pulling on his arm, shoving him, sending a fist to his face, was what opened the cage.

And then there was blood, and Billy’s teeth were sharp, and his eye, well there was no way they were still blue. And Billy remembers shouting “there he is, all hail King Steve” voice like gravel; more growl then human. Remembers the sound of glass and what he _vividly_ remembers is wrestling Harrington to the floor. Pinning him, the smell of blood and sweat and adrenaline. It was so fuckin’ delicious, so goddamn enticing to the beast. He wanted to just rip into his neck, taste it, him. Billy felt it, felt himself slipping, giving way to the shift. He wanted it so bad, to just let it out.

That’s when he felt the needle. Aconite, straight to the bloodstream. Max knew what she was doing, Billy taught her this back in California to make sure she’d always be safe with him. He just never thought it would hurt that much. It was like his blood was on fire and not in a good way; he was choking, clawing at his throat, gasping for air. And Max was yelling and he couldn’t hear her. Then he blacked out.

Now it’s a week till Christmas and blood dripped down Billy’s brow. Neil shaking his fist out from just punching him. Their pack crest ring on Neil’s middle finger is what broke the skin.

“You listen boy, this family is your only pack whether you like it or not William! I’m your father! Your alpha and I deserve respect dammit!”

Billy sneered at that, lip curled, nostrils flared. His teeth growing sharp and he felt a growl in the back of his throat wanting to escape.

“This isn’t a pack! None of you know what I’m going through! You’re not even one of us! You’re not my alpha! At least in California I had Grams to get me through all this bullshit! You don’t deserve that ring…”

Billy could feel the change coming on. The angrier he got the more it wanted to over take him, the more he wanted it to over take him. He hasn’t been able to shift in four months. It wasn’t natural, it made him feel horrible and trapped. Caged up. That’s exactly what Neil was doing. Caging Billy in cause if he couldn’t turn then Billy shouldn’t either.

Talking back usually would get Billy a smack to the face or a shove to the wall. A punch to the gut if Neil was in a bad mood, but then again this was the first time Billy had bit out such rebellion. Billy wasn’t sure if it was the _'you’re not my alpha’,_ or _'your not of of us’_ , that did Neil in this time. Billy knew that the latter was the biggest regret of Neil’s life and he didn’t even have control over it.

The gene occasionally skips generations. In the myths it was said because the “gift” would be wasted on them or cause destruction to their kind. Whatever the reason it skipped Neil, he took all that range and tortured Billy with it. Like it was his fault. Cause he was born with the gift of old gods and Neil wasn’t worthy enough for it.

So yeah, Billy spitting out those words to Neil was probably the stupidest thing he’s done since he and his buddies went hunting without the rest of the pack back in the California desert. One of the first laws Billy had to learn the hard way, 'hunt with the pack, or not at all.“

It didn’t register to the blonde at first, the shock kept the pain at bay, until it didn’t. And then the pain seeped in. Aconite, better known as Wolfsbane. Billy knew that sting, that burn. He felt it last month when Max dug it into him. It was something every wolf had to be exposed to from a young age. So they’d know it when they felt it. Of course, Neil just so happened to keep a pocket knife seeped in it on hand in case Billy ever got too out of hand for his liking. It’s the only way he’d be able to combat the animal in Billy, his strength alone isn’t enough; not anymore at least. 

Then there was blood, and blood made Billy’s eye shift. Always, it was one of the only parts of the wolf Billy couldn’t control. Fresh blood filled his nostrils, his blood. He could feel it, the warmth of it pooling out of his chest, running down his sun kissed body. It was going to ruin his shirt and that kind of pissed him off more then pain did.

"Maybe next time you’ll be more attentive while I’m speaking to you.”

“There won’t be a next time!”

Billy snarled, clinging to his open wound, unsuccessfully trying to stop the bleeding. With a growl, he took off, past his father, past the kitchen, past the living room with Max clinging to her mother; and then out the front door.

He ran, ran so fast and pushed so hard, “Just gotta make it to the woods” he panted the mantra to lull the animal inside howlin’, clawing to come out. To be released, finally. They’ve moved to the forest town six damn months ago almost to the day, Billy knows because the full moon was coming soon. He could feel it, he kept track of it. If the only reason they moved to Indiana was so Billy would have nothing but forest to run in, to hunt in, to be _feral and unhinged_ ; why has it been so long since he’s ran. It was because Neil knew Billy was next choice to be Alpha and he’d rather die than take orders from his own son.

It was because Neil couldn’t keep his trap shut to the humans; because he was more human than wolf. He masked the move with ideas of grandeur; middle of nowhere, nothing but open spaces. But the parts he left out were the parts Billy clung to, open space meant isolation, moving meant leaving his pack, it meant that he wouldn’t be alpha, he’ll have to stay under Neil’s thumb until—

And his thoughts kept building and turning like the pacific waves, until finally he reached the Hawkin’s forest line. Just seeing the treeline, smelling the wet earth, the pine and moss; the blonde only made it twelve feet in before he had to stop. The shift was coming on too strong for him to go any further. So he stripped, slinking off his denim jacket and the bloodied white button up. Shook out of his jeans and his boots, feeling his skin prickling; felt his eyes shift and his nails elongate. His mother’s necklace was the last thing to leave his body before he balled everything up tucking it down by a fallen tree.

He stripped his mind of all the humanity that the wolf was running from. He let it go in one breath and then at last the wolf took over, then he took off, sprinting into the trees; the heavy musk of dirt and moss under his feet encircled him. The wet frozen air, the decomposing bark, the pine and winter bare branches brushing against his skin. All of it, every ounce of the wilderness was home to him; because he _was_ wild. All it took to shift was one _jump,_ a leap of faith, giving yourself completely over to the animal inside. 

Letting go of your human bonds in trade for ancestral instinct. In one _lunge_ , one _pounce_ into the air, Billy was encapsulated by the change and when he landed, it was on all fours. Bright ocean eyes became golden ones that saw the lightest leaf move against the forest ground. Coated with thick, tony, red and russet fur, and the wolf shook out his burly coat. He stretched slowly. Enjoying the ecstasy of every muscle finally being able to bend in the ways they’re meant to.

And he howled and it felt better than breathing. In all the pleasure Billy almost forgot the pain, but then he remembered when there was no response. No call back from his pack, nothing, and then his cries of bliss became those of loneliness. Wolves aren’t meant to be alone. Wolves that separated from the pack, well they either started their own pack or they died. And neither of those were to be an option for the young beast.

But he pushed it down. Some place deep where his human emotions got tucked away because they only interrupted the experience. His paws dug deep into the frozen ground kicking up the powder as he ran. Birds rustled over head, squirrels, and rabbits scattered in all directions. Deer, Billy could smell his prey not too far from him, his mouth salivated as he came up upon the creature picking away at the last hopes of fall’s harvest. And the wolf’s mouth curled back baring fangs and he kneaded into the dirt; watching the doe.

Then his instincts lunged him through the brush, teeth ripped through flesh and fur, and for once in the past four months the wolf felt whole again. As blood soaked maw tore and trashed and growled until his hunger subsided; then the beast trotted off to find shelter. The Hargrove house was not home, and it wasn’t an option; but Billy could smell smoke, ash, a fire? He didn’t know how far into the woods he’d gone but there probably wasn’t a residential area for a couple miles now.

Must be a camp site or _something_ , either way the wolf had to steer clear; wolves weren’t native to Indiana and the last thing Billy needed was animal control on his tail. So he hunkered down between hallowed trees. With nightfall no one would be in the woods anyways. And with the wind shift it brought more snow and the wolf has never known snow against his fur but it felt refreshing; the cold against the heat of his wound which started to heal as soon as he shifted. Then the satiated beast fell asleep with the promise that he’ll be able to do it all over again tomorrow.


End file.
